Dearest Riley

Riley Horan. Sound familiar? Probably not. According to Modest! Management (a.k.a. One Direction’s management company), Riley doesn't exist. She is Niall Horan’s sister, but she goes by her fake name: Riley Gibbons. Management has asked (more like forced, actually) Riley and her family to keep her identity a secret from everyone else. No one knows that she has a famous brother, or that her famous brother has a sister. And it seems that Niall is absolutely fine with this situation; he seems to enjoy Riley not being in his life. Depressed and quite pissed (because her life is pretty bad at the moment), Riley thinks she has no one to turn to for help. That is, until another member of One Direction strolls into her life and changes things.

And don’t worry; this isn't a typical “teen-age-ery” love story. In fact, Riley doesn’t even like Harry Styles when he enters her life. If you really want the truth, Riley thinks Harry Styles is an asshole…….


10. Should I tell him?

Harry hesitates.

"What about it? Did management do something to you?"

"Um, well..."

"Harry, just answer the fucking question," I demand, gritting my teeth.

"Fine, fine. Okay, okay."

"That's not answering the goddamn question, now is it?" I hiss, getting fed up. I wish he would just get on with it.

"Have you ever heard of 'Larry Stylinson'?"

"No. Who the fuck is that?"

"It's the romantic name for me and Louis."

"Louis... Is that the gay one?"

"If you meant sassy, then yes," he chuckles.

"Okay, so go on."

"Well, some of our fans think that we're in a secret relationship, and that management is just covering it all up."

"Well, it is something management would do."

"Yeah, so, anyway, they basically told me that I couldn't spend time with Louis anymore. They threatened to let me out of my contract and lose my pay if I didn't move out of our apartment. I couldn't interact as much with him in interviews or on stage, or even when we were alone together."

"Seriously? Management really needs to fuck off," I say, sympathizing. It seems that Modest! has no problem with tearing people apart.

"Yeah, he was my best friend, you know? I miss spending time with him. It's not like it used to be."

I silently chuckle in my head. At least Harry gets to see Louis everyday. I mean, I wish I was that fortunate to see my brother on a daily basis. Then again, he's an asshole and I probably wouldn't want him around if I saw him everyday. I'm quite a contradictory person.

"So, is there any truth to the rumors? Do you love Louis?" I ask, intrigued. Louis came across as gay, but, for all I know, Harry could be gay, too.

"No! I mean, I do love him, but as a best friend. He means the world to me, yes. But romantically, no. And just to clear it up, neither of us are gay," he explains.

"Are you sure about that? Louis seemed pretty..."

"Pretty what?"

"...not straight?"

"No, he is completely straight. Or, at least, that's what he tells people."

I nod my head. Louis must've not come out of the closet yet.

"Why did you think I was gay?"

"I didn't think you were, but I was just making sure you weren't."

"And why is that? Are you interested in the 'Styles'?"

"I'm going to say this only once: I am not fucking interested in you. You need to get that through your bloody head," I say, once again in a bad mood. Harry can go from being a decent person to being a pervert awfully quick.

"Okay, understood," Harry mumbles.

Harry starts up the car and we drive off.


After bickering back and forth for a bit, silence once again filled the car. Harry was still offended that I thought he could be gay, and I was offended because he thought I was trying to seduce him. Long story short, we were both pissed at each other.

Harry makes a sharp turn down a road I didn't quite recognize. Thick foliage and trees surrounded each side of the road, and not a single light could be seen.

"Are you sure you know where you're going? You should let me drive."

"No, no. I know where the house is."

I nod my head, still hesitant. I don't even think we're in the same town anymore.

"Are you sure, Harry? It looks like we're in a fucking forest."

"Trust me, this is a shortcut."

I roll my eyes and take a deep breath. That's what the driver always says in the movies, right before an axe murderer or a serial rapist jumps out.

The car soon rolls to a stop. It was a dead end.

"Fuck," Harry grumbles.

"We're lost, aren't we?" I snap pointedly, quite angry that I didn't take the wheel sooner.


"This is why nobody fucking likes you. I bet you do this to people all the time."

"Do what to people?"

"Make them fucking annoyed that they even bloody trusted you in the first place."

"Seriously, are you sure you're not on your fucking period?"


"Then why the hell are you so bitchy?!"

"I wouldn't be so bitchy if you weren't such an asshole!"

Harry just groans and puts his head in his hands. "I'm sorry. Now can you please just drive and get us un-lost?"

"Harry, I don't even know where we fucking are right now. How do you expect me to drive back?"

"Don't you have GPS on your phone or something?" he points out, making me feel a bit stupid for not thinking of that myself.

"I might. Let me check," I say, reaching into my purse and grabbing my phone. Luckily, I did have GPS.

"Where are we?"

"Um, wait. It's still scanning. Okay, wait. Okay, here it is. We're 19.5 miles out of town. We're in Lisryan."

"I've never heard of that."

"It's in the countryside."

"Okay, then get us back to Mullingar."


I unbuckle and switch sides with Harry. I was thankful that he let me drive, but having Harry as a passenger doesn't sound like a pleasant experience.

I start the car and it turns over. I try again, yet the engine still doesn't start. "What the fuck?"

I try again, and yet the engine still doesn't start up.

"Maybe we're out of gas," Harry says.

I glare at him, feeling anger in the pit of my soul. "WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU MEAN WE"RE OUT OF GAS?!"

"Well, Gemma hasn't filled the car up in a while. She told me to do it yesterday, and I kind of forgot until now."


"What the hell? This is my sister's car! You get the fuck out!"

"Harry, just call for help. Be useful for once."

"Fine. I'll get a tow truck."

Great. Now I'm in the middle of nowhere with Harry Styles. I'm starting to think that the universe really fucking hates me.

Harry calls for a tow truck, arguing with the person on the other end. After about ten minutes of Harry explaining our situation and the guy screaming and cursing at him, Harry finally hangs up.

"A truck will be here in about an hour."

"Great. Just fucking great."

I fold my arms and stare out the windshield, looking at the trees that surround us. An hour stuck inside a car with only Harry for company will be a long damn hour. I might as well keep my mind occupied. With nothing else to do, especially because I don't want to drain my phone's battery, I decide to count how many trees there are. I know it's lame, but it's better than talking to Harry for an hour.

I laugh at myself for doing this. I used to do this in primary school all the time. Whenever the teacher lectured on and on and on, I used to look around the room and count how many books were on the shelves, and how many posters were on the wall. I even counted and re-counted how many pencils were in my pencil case. It was a bad habit of mine.

Harry snaps me out of my thoughts.

"So, um, how old are you?"

"I told you at dinner. I'm seventeen, remember?"

"Oh, yeah. I'm not very good at remembering stuff."

I scoff at his excuse. Bullshit. He just wasn't listening.

"So, um, how are you and Marcel?"


"You know, your boyfriend?" he teases, poking my side. I was surprised. I had briefly mentioned Mark at dinner. Maybe Harry was listening after all.

Harry pokes me again, harder this time.

"Don't fucking touch me," I hiss, making Harry smirk. "Besides, my boyfriend's name is Mark."

"So, tell me about 'Mark'."

I bite my tongue, stopping myself from saying something rude.

"His full name is Mark Thomas. He's a medical student. He hopes to be a doctor one day. Um, we've been together for about seven months. So....yeah."

"So, does Mark know about your brother?"

"No, no. Nobody, except my family and you, knows about that. Management will give us a huge fine if we tell."

"But he has the right  to know who you are. I mean, you are in a serious relationship. He deserves to know the truth."

"It's not that simple," I say under my breath. I wish I could tell Mark the truth, but I think telling him will do more harm than good.

"Riley, trust me on this. Guys don't like to be lied to."

I laugh. "Harry, never in a million years will I take relationship advice from you."

"And why not?"


"Because why?"

"Because I don't trust perverts."

Harry chuckles. "I think you've just run out of insults, and that's why you keep calling me a pervert."

"Maybe," I agree, laughing with him.


After the whole ordeal was over, and we both arrived back at Emer's house, Harry and I decided to just go to bed. It was getting late, and we were both tired from tonight's events.

"See you in a couple of minutes," he mumbles, yawning. He walks to the guest room and closes the door behind him.

I walk to the bathroom and get ready for bed. It's been an exhausting day, and an even more exhausting week. I brush my teeth and change into my pajamas, never once thinking about anything else other than what Harry had said tonight.

Should I tell Mark the truth? If I do, it could seriously ruin my brother's career, and even put my whole family in a tough situation. And what if he breaks up with me for lying to him? But if I don't tell him the truth, he's going to continue loving Riley Gibbons, and not the real me. Am I that selfish? Would I put my family in jeopardy, just so I could have an honest relationship?

No. I refuse to be that selfish. Niall might've screwed with my life, but I refuse to sink to his level. I won't screw with Niall's career. I'm not that type of person.

I would be happy, yes, if someone else ruined his life. I would be filled with joy if he could feel as miserable as I do now. But as much as I hate him, I couldn't bear to live with myself if I was the cause of his misery. I want Niall to suffer for all that he's done to me, but at the same time, I love him too much to intentionally make him suffer.

It was complicated, and even I didn't fully understand my reasoning. I guess that's the result of being fucked with beyond compare. My life might suck, but it would suck even more if I had a guilty conscience.

No, I finally decided. I won't tell Mark the truth.

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